Corruption of the Life Spark
by AutumnMobile12
Summary: The Millennium Earl must fall, but is it worth a price of corruption and hatred? In the face of a program designed to revolutionize the war against their adversary, Fou finds herself torn between the morals she was taught and the humans' desire for victory. Sequel to Analysis.


Corruption of the Life Spark

Author's Notes: Hi, AutumnM here. So this is the sequel to Analysis, but it can be read by itself. It wasn't my intent to write it, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. It's most likely going to be a three-shot.

D Gray Man is the property of Katsura Hoshino.

Okay, here it is. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Conceived Abominations

There was a big difference between a homunculus and a golem.

It was astonishingly simple to create either one. Golems could come in many different forms, the Order merely favored the bird-like ones for communication and monitoring purposes. But a golem could be created in the form of a human just as easily as a homunculus. The ingredients for a healthy, functioning human body were quite easy to procure and painless to arrange. Throw everything together in a vat of water, instate the necessary enchantments, and voilá. One Grade A, self-sustaining artificial life form coming right up.

All it took to distinguish golems from homunculi was a few drops of blood, a hair, some skin sample, anything from the creator at all, really. Without genetic data implanted within, a homunculus was just a golem: unable to speak or possess a thought process or feel emotion any emotion of its own. Golems had a tendency to develop a persona based on humans around them. Homunculi were golems in a sense, simply carried a step further with the addition of a touch of human. A part of the homo sapien race in their own right.

There was nothing wrong with crafting a homunculus.

It was an entirely different story to force an Innocence into one.

Her mistress' outrage at the Main Headquarters' request was terrifying. The very idea of transplanting the brain of a deceased exorcist into the fresh, young body of a homunculus and testing whether or not the accommodating factor would follow suit was unthinkable. She called it a disgrace and adamantly refused to perform it, to which Supervisor Leverrier replied he had already approached the Epstein Family and the Science Council Chairman Saarinzu was interested and willing.

It wasn't a bad plan, Fou thought to herself. Actually quite ingenious, recycling from the fallen soldiers. They'd lost so many and their numbers had barely risen since the disastrous year of 1824, when thirty-five apostles of God once stood before the Earl and only eleven remained come New Years. So many had been killed, the greatest General Horace Malken, the talented pair Lord and Lady Branfield, the deceitful Martyl Grynne who'd betrayed them to the Earl's demons, the bizarre duo Fou had once met in the Asian Branch library, and even her beloved Cleto.

Leverrier's plan would not only strengthen their numbers, but provide a way to create more exorcists and ensure the Order's survival. Fou could see the appeal in it. She knew her mistress could too; she sensed a gleam of hope in Twi's cold and hateful eyes.

"You dare cross into the home of my ancestors," She snarled dangerously. "And expect to gain welcome while you intend to befoul our sorcery with the proposition of creating an army of abominations!"

Fou looked back and forth between the two of them. They were friends, these two, up until about thirty-five minutes ago when he announced the plan for the so-called Second Exorcist Program. Twi's wrath was not to be taken lightly. Fou could see her mistress' left hand twitching in resistance to seize the letter opener on her desk, slice her right hand open to call upon the God Seal, and end her childhood friend then and there. The same with the Director, who was fingering some weapon—probably a knife or handgun—concealed in his sleeve. Fou tensed, ready to strike should any harm come to the Head of the Chans.

It was a tantalizing experiment. But to resurrect an exorcist? The Order believed accommodators were guaranteed a place in Heaven after death. To take a final peaceful rest away from them in hopes of multiplying the numbers of the living? It was inhumane. Unthinkable. Resurrection itself was taboo in the Order for it was the method through which the Millennium Earl constructed his akuma. A forbidden science.

And yet, so very tempting.

Twi could see that. Fou could sense her defiance crumbling before reason. Without this program, their odds of victory would continue to diminish. When her mistress flashed her a look, Fou didn't react at all, leaving her to decide on her own. Finally, Twi hissed furiously, "Get out."

Leverrier rose to his feet and began to move toward the door. "I'll give you some time to consider the matter, Chan. Perhaps by then you'll have set aside sentiment."

"Out, out!" She screamed after him. Fou felt a rush of energy and the shadows within the office rippled and shot deadly spikes at the Director, slashing the sleeves of his uniform jacket. "Don't show your face in Asia Branch again, vulture!" Far from threatened, Leverrier waved as though they were still close friends as the office doors slammed shut. Then Twi turned on Fou and jabbed a finger to the door. "You, too! Get out!"

Fou flinched in surprise but did as she was bade. If her mistress was upset, there was no standing in her way. But before she could make it to the door, it slid open and Edgar dashed in. "Twi, what's going on? I just passed Mal in the hallway and he looks furious. What on earth did you talk about?"

"Che!" Twi whirled around and crossed her arms. "What did we talk about?" For fifteen minutes, she ranted and carried on about the insult done to the Chans—"Who does he think he is?"—the insanity of the project—"Really, that man! Scandalous!"—and other vague slights that didn't exactly apply to the situation—here Fou ducked as a potted plant flew over her head and shattered against the wall.

Edgar ran forward and caught his wife's hand as she reached for another object to throw, "Twi, stop it!"

She slumped back into her desk chair and buried her face in her hand. "This was Uncle's plan."

"What?" Edgar looked both confused and astonished, taking a seat on her desk. "Whatever do you mean, darling?"

The black-haired woman looked up at him. "Malcolm doesn't understand how our sorcery even operates—no one outside the family does—never mind determine what's possible from impossible. Uncle is his teacher and is concerned with our family's status in the Order, always dreaming up beastly experiments to increase the exorcist numbers. He gave him the idea, I'm sure of it." She took a deep breath. "This is madness. Yanking an accommodator from the grave? What have we become, Ed?"

Edgar didn't reply, and Fou chose to make her overdue exit, hurtling through the doors and sprinting down the hallway. Focusing on the matrix, she sensed the unfamiliar entities of the European Branch members quickly retreating from the complex, all except for two exorcists, one of whom was in the infirmary and the other just returning from an assignment.

Fou took a shortcut through the matrix, disappearing within the walls and re-materializing at the front gate to make sure the Director and his colleagues were leaving. Fou opened her mouth in astonishment, for she spotted the Chief of the Science Department among the group. Luca Chan Martin, Edgar's father. Had other members of the Chan Clan begun to turn on her mistress? Were they doing so willingly or had other allegiances they'd made over the years gotten in the way of loyalty to their family?

Putting one of her paws to her mouth, Fou contemplated everything she knew. Twi Chan was a strong leader, just as her father Yu Min had been. And before him, the great sorcerer Faustus Martin. She couldn't possibly lose her clan members' dependability and trust after all this time. She had always kept the clan in line, as well as her subordinates at the branch, and earned a fair bit of respect from both. What was happening?

Ever since the year 1824 came to its bloody end, Fou had heard rumors of artificial apostle research becoming more and more popular. Not that it was unheard of; there was always plenty of gossip concerning the dark side of the Leverrier and Chan families. But nowadays, there'd been stories of blood relatives of exorcists also being snatched from their homes and brought to the Order for experimentation, Innocence tampered with, and unreliable exorcists tormented. The entire defense against the Earl was in chaos.

_And why shouldn't they be?_ Fou thought as one of the Asian Branch scientists drew a handgun out of his lab coat and held it at arms length, screaming for the Europeans to leave. Her mistress, Edgar, Leverrier, and other officials in their age group, had been born and raised during a time when at least thirty to fifty exorcists stood against the Earl all at once. The Black Order's prosperous Golden Age. Victory had been in sight then. To suddenly have their small army of divine accommodators of Innocence nearly hunted to extinction would drive anyone to take desperate measures such as the Second Program.

Two Crows leapt forward to subdue the handgun scientist. _The idea is ludicrous._ Fou thought. _Sacrilege._ And yet, she thought as she leaped into the fray to separate the fighters, the Second Exorcist Program may be their only hope.

-0-0-0-

Twi gave in less than a week later, bitterly calling the European Branch to inform them she was at their disposal. Every inch of Fou's being knew she was wrong to do it, but what could she say? Without the project, the exorcists could very well die out before reinforcements were discovered naturally. And by then, the Earl would have overrun the world and wiped out the human race. Not even she was confident enough to believe she would be able to protect the Chans if worse came to worse.

She leaned against one of the hallway railings on the branches second tier and observed the humans under her protection. Most of the crowd were scientists heading to lunch, but she counted a number of medics rushing about, a laundry person here and there, and once a cook. Fou frowned at this fellow, her lips pulling back in a scowl. What was the Zu Mei Chan doing dressed as a cook?

But, as betrayed as she felt by her mistress' theory, she could not bring herself to leap down and confront the old man. Whether he never been family head or not, he was still a Chan. Striking even the most loosely related member was unthinkable. So Fou sat back and watched her mistress' uncle continue on his way and disappear. He was her creator's sole surviving son, she reminded herself sadly. Hei Chan had been killed in the mysterious Antarctica Branch massacre, Li Chan dead in a middle of an experiment gone horribly wrong, and Yu Min murdered by akuma on his way to the European Branch. How long would it be before Zu Mei joined them, she wondered, hating the notion of the second generation leaving her.

"Wha's wrong, Fou?"

She turned and looked down into the face of Ling Mao, an oversized stuffed panda bear given to the young master by Wong for his first birthday. A pair of familiar dark blue eyes were visible peeking over the top of the bear's head. "Hey, baka-Bak." She greeted with a smirk.

The tiny three-year-old pulled his bear down so she could see his face and he stuck out his lower lip in protest. "Don't call me that. I don't like it."

Fou snickered and patted his hair. "Shouldn't you be with your nanny?"

"She's ah-sleep."

"Then you'd best head back then." Fou advised, putting a paw on his shoulder and steering him in the other direction. "You want to get lost and nearly starve again? Remember how worried your parents were?" Personally, she thought the Chans' needed a more adept babysitter. Snorting, she scooped the kid up in her arms. "What are you up to, anyway?"

"Exploring." He beamed proudly.

"Ah." Fou nodded. "Find anything worthwhile?" In response, Bak held up a smooth, black pebble about the size of a large marble. "Hey, that's pretty neat. What is it?"

"It's a rock." Bak answered in a teasing tone. "You know that. Hi, Mutti!" Fou looked up in surprise to find her mistress stepping out from an adjoining hallway. Twi glanced at them for moment, gave them a distracted/dismissive wave, and continued on her way with out a word. Watching her go, Bak lowered his eyes sadly. "Mutti's not happy. She hasn't been happy for a long time."

"She's just busy." Fou lied. She knew very well Twi had been resentful since Europe's visit, but she hadn't counted on Bak being that perceptive. "Your mother works pretty hard, you know."

Bak nodded, smiling again. "Really hard! I'm going to work just as hard when I grow up!"

_You're going to have to._ Fou thought sadly. With the change of circumstances and fall of the exorcists, this poor kid had inherited the chaotic deterioration of the Black Order, the Harrowing Age some called it. The humans had once called being chosen as an apostle of God good fortune. Now, many called it a curse, a death sentence. Fou closed her eyes as she walked. Oh, how quickly the humans' viewpoint changed with death.

Her young master's room was one of the caverns a short distance from his parents' quarters. Fou rarely went inside, adhering to her personal rule of invitation, but in the event she was bringing the kid back, she automatically opened the door and stepped inside. She had been inside a couple times before, and the room looked the same as ever: swamped in numerous stuffed animals. Most of them had been gifts from relatives and friends of the family (Wong supplied over a dozen here), but the occasional Branch workers sporadically sent something, showing their appreciation for the Chans.

And in the middle of this mess, lay a snoozing, ancient woman.

Setting the three-year-old on the ground, Fou strode forward with her paws on her hips. The old nanny didn't stir in the slightest. Shushing Bak, Fou winked and crept forward, shifting into the form of a huge lion. Bak covered his mouth with Ling Mao to suppress a giggle. Lumbering up to the sofa, Fou put her massive paws up on the cushions and her great nose in the nanny's face. No movement. Sucking in a huge breath, Fou roared mightily.

Immediately, the old woman shrieked in terror, leaping up and looking around for the oversized feline, but Fou hurriedly shifted back to her natural state and crossed her arms, shouting haughtily. "Mrs. Blumstein, good afternoon!"

Fixing her thick-rimmed glasses and blinking furiously before she focused on them, she greeted them in a relieved tone. "Oh, it's you Madam Guardian. What brings you here today."

"Oh, no reason." Fou glanced over her shoulder at a certain blond burying his face into his panda, barely concealing his trembling shoulders. "What were you doing just now?"

-0-0-0-

For the sake of her mistress, Fou decided not to stress her out quite yet about the incompetent caretaker of her son. She noticed Twi was spending fewer nights in her quarters and more sleeping at her desk. She went entire days without seeing Edgar or Bak, and it did not go unnoticed by either of them.

More often than not, Bak went tailing after her, asking when Mutti was coming back. Fou always told him she didn't have an answer for him and eventually lost her patience and threatened if he dared ask that question again she would see fit lock him in a closet. (He was deathly afraid of the dark.)

The Second Apostle Program was underway almost immediately, given there were potential years being gambled with the procedure. Normally, a homunculus didn't take long to construct and animate, but in the event they were employing the use of a dead brain there was no telling the length of the suspended animation. Even the most skilled sorcerers in the family were skeptical the apostle homunculi would ever wake up at all.

However, acquiring the right materials was certain. For such complex creatures, humans were made out of some pretty cheap stuff, Fou noted as she observed Twi's notes and equations over her shoulder. One of her papers was a diagram of a child of about ten years. Everything else was percentages of the elements in an average human being. Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorous, sulfur, and other trace components. And sitting on her desk, currently employed as a paperweight, was a large beaker of gooey, transparent liquid in which a brain was suspended.

"Stop looking over my shoulder, Fou."

Fou sidestepped to stand next to her. "My apologies. How's it coming?"

"My math's correct. Hopefully, we can start construction tomorrow." Absently, she tapped the beaker with her pencil, eyeing its contents as though she expected the gooey brain to do something fascinating.

"Who's brain is that?" Asked Fou, wrinkling her nose at the smell of formaldehyde. "Not Brook's!" Fay Brook had been the youngest exorcist to ever be recruited. Two years old, she was orphaned and brought to the Order to accommodate a mysterious Innocence named the Sight. Just months before, she'd been killed during an assignment in North America. She was six. After her death, the Order seemed to decline even further, Central lost hope, exorcists and finders their morale.

"No, no." Twi shook her head. "Brook's Innocence was taken and presumably destroyed. There's no point in submitting her into this project. This is Nathaniel Bird's."

Fou frowned. "I thought he was an old man, why does his noodle look like a child's?"

"Epstein." She answered shortly. "One of the undertakings his researchers have is to blank the memories of the apostles and to process the sample brains to accommodate a child's body. The theory is if we use children bodies, they'll grow to accommodate the Innocence with more ease than adults." She pushed back from her desk and rose to her feet. "As children bodies are more adaptable. Good night, Fou."

"Night." Fou eyed the brain a moment more, then shouted after her mistress. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my office. I still have to—"

Fou stepped into the wall, passing through the matrix, and reappeared in front of the branch head. "No, I think you should go to bed. You haven't had any decent sleep in weeks and your family misses you."

"The Order before family, Fou."

She put her hands on her hips. "I think the Order can wait till morning at least. Go to bed, Mistress. Or I'll call the Head Matron to kick you there."

The corner of Twi's mouth twitched and she lowered her crossed arms, letting them hang. "Che, fine. I'll go sleep. Just don't set that old witch on me. It's bad enough having to face her for an exam tomorrow."

Fou grinned in satisfaction and took extra measures to follow Twi out of her private office and back to her quarters in case she decided to take any detours. She must've been planning on it, too, for she kept looking over her shoulder and scowling. In the Director's quarters, however, the woman seemed to give up any and all attempts to sneak back to work and resigned herself to the fact some things just weren't being completed tonight. Fou nodded smugly to herself.

"Mutti?" Asked a timid voice.

"Go to sleep, Bak." Twi ordered, walking past him without glancing at him or even slowing her pace.

Here, Fou stopped and looked down at the little boy in the doorway, clutching an oversized panda bear. His eyes were red, too, and (she noted with some disgust) there was snot running from his nose. "What's up?" He lowered his eyes and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Fou shuddered. "Come on, don't make me stand here all night."

Suddenly, Twi reappeared, kneeling in front of her son and clapping her hands over his red cheeks. "What's wrong? Look at me, look at me. Tell me what happened." Bak whimpered something incomprehensible and buried his face in Ling Mao's head, muffling an inconsolable wail. Twi widened her black eyes in alarm and hesitantly pulled the boy against her, one arm around him and one hand against his blond hair. "Shh, shh, just tell me what's wrong."

When he recovered, he mumbled something about having a nightmare. "I-It was awful."

Twi said nothing, only letting the boy cry and seeming unsure of what else to do. Fou gave her credit, though; she didn't turn to her for help. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" She asked quietly. Bak shook his head against her shoulder. "It might make you feel better." He shook his head again and squeezed his bear, oblivious to his mother sitting on her heels and pulling him into her lap. "There, there, my son. Mother's here. Mother loves you. Mother will always love you."

"I know…" He whispered. "_Ich liebe dich, Mutti_."

She smiled and stood, lifting him up with her. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. Why are you so heavy?"

"Can I stay with you and Vati?"

"Pardon?"

He looked up at her, blue eyes wide and imploring. "Please, Mutti. May I stay with you and Vati?"

Twi hesitated. "I see no problem with that. Only for tonight, though."

-0-0-0-

There were to be twenty-five samples. Eighteen male and seven female.

At least, that was how many Fou had counted in Twi's analysis. From a distance where she could observe and not be disturbed, Fou watched the researchers pass packages of sulfur and phosphorous about along with test tubes of the trace elements. The gases would be added later. Humans were surprisingly cheap, despite the complexity of their appearance. To keep everything together, the elements were placed in a special, transparent bag that would dissolve completely and harmlessly when dumped in water.

Fou pursed her lips in thought. Fashioning homunculi with this method was more prone to failure for there was always a chance the elements wouldn't succeed in forming well-functioning body parts. Manufacturing bones and organs and everything else individually was much easier and the success rate was almost one-hundred percent, but in that method, the homunculus would remain the age it appeared for the rest of its life. Fou tightly crossed her arms. Her creator had made her like that, never aging. In spite of her pride and the power she possessed, she had to admit her design was pretty old-fashioned compared to these guys. Not that she'd ever say that out loud though. There was no way she was going to let these pups outperform her.

When the twenty-fifth sample was complete, save for the gases, the twenty-five researchers currently involved with the program turned to Twi for further instruction. The final step was donating genetic DNA and instilling the charm that would compel the elements to grow into the desired form.

"After you mix blood, hair, or skin with the samples, add the necessary gases, I want you all switch samples with another scientist, then trade with another, and another until you are no longer sure where yours is." Twi directed, casually slitting her palm open and squeezing a stream of crimson blood into the bag of white powder in her hands.

Most of the other scientists clipped a lock of their hair for the homunculi, Fou noted with some humor. _Wimps_. She thought as they began to switch. _Can't even slit their hands._ The exchanging was done without question, and then the bags were each placed in an individual hollow, about five feet in diameter and six feet deep, to serve as an artificial womb for the apostles to develop.

Only in this method, the process would be halted partway through in order to transplant a dead exorcist's brain into each homunculus.

-0-0-0-

There was no shortage of exorcist bodies from which to harvest the brains. Those who weren't disintegrated by the akuma virus were buried a crypt far below the earth in the Central Administration. They lay in peace, perfectly preserved by the Order's undertakers. It was all too easy for the scientists to raid the tombs and reap the corpses.

Fou closed her eyes. Though she did not know it, this grave robbing in the name of science would one day begin the Order's tradition of cremating the dead.

When she opened her eyes again, another casket was being brought in. Again, the scientists and undertakers pounded the bolts sealing the coffin until they sprang free and the lid was lifted, creaking against the nails. Fou peered inside. It was a male apostle lying against the white interior. He was well into his thirties, his skin bone white and waxy in death. His brown hair was neatly combed smooth and he'd been dressed in fine, black clothing for burial.

"Rikuto Sohma," Read the Head Undertaker from the old, worn ledger in his withered hands. "Age twenty-six. Accommodator to the nameless battle-axe Innocence. Date o' birth unknown. Date o' death May 23, 1824. Lot of 'em from '24, ain't there, Madam Chan."

"Indeed." She answered, curling her lip in distaste for his attitude. "Thank you, Undertaker."

"Still dunno what you wan' wit' 'im. Or any of 'em." The Head Undertaker said over his shoulder as he led his assistants out. "If you ask me, Madam, dem Accommodators belong in the ground once their hearts quit."

"You've no idea." Twi muttered, kneeling by the coffin as the doors boomed shut behind the departing men.

"Are you really gonna bust his skull open and take out his melon?" Fou asked, upturning her nose as the stench of dead body.

Twi nodded and turned to one of Epstein's men. "He's all yours. I just hope he doesn't twitch. I've seen more than enough jumping corpses today than I've ever wanted to."

Fou didn't stick around for the brain removal, preferring to double checking the boundaries of her territory. As usual, their hidden palace was undisturbed, perfectly concealed from the outside world. Standing in the core of her territory, she focused her sights on the magnificent front gate and recalled when she and Faustus Martin first discovered it.

It was long before the first exorcist Morgan de Grayman, his childhood friend and ally Robert Leverrier, and the strange tribal girl Hevlaska came to them for assistance. Back when her master simply went by the moniker 'The Life-Weaving Mage'. He was a stern man and straightforward, dedicated to his work.

In his travels, Fou was at his side constantly, though considerably younger and very inquisitive like any youthful homunculus. A former undertaker, Master Faustus sought knowledge like food and drink. Knowledge to bring life into creatures, heal wounds in creatures, and to understand the inner workings of creatures. It was his understanding humans could destroy life at will, and did so often. But if that was the case, then why shouldn't a man be able to _create_ a life? Why should that ability be left up to the hands of a higher power prayed to at Mass?

He created her to be his assistant and guard and could dismiss her if he so chose, just as any of his bloodline could. They traveled to far lands beyond the stretch of imagination, always expanding her master's understanding of the life force. Most of the time, Fou had assumed the form of a shabby, old dog trotting along after him. It was often they came across a wounded man in the road and, after inquiring how obtained his injuries, if Master Faustus deemed him worthy, he would heal the man good as new and they would continue on their way.

In that manner, her master became known as something like a wizard. 'A traveling magic man and his faithful dog.' (At that point, Fou had decided to take the form of a young boy to act as an apprentice.) And then, word was sent to them from the powerful Chinese Empire. An Imperial soldier met them on the road, explained he'd been sent by the lord of his province, and beseeched her master to rid their land of a terrible plague. Master Faustus agreed, of course, for he had yet to study Chinese medicine.

It was a terrible enough blight, Fou remembered. It had taken her master several days to brew an appropriate medicine and for the lord to distribute it among the people With this help, her master's spellwork did the rest. He was thanked and celebrated for weeks after the last ill child recovered. Fou twitched irritably. She didn't remember much of the celebrations thanks to a sweet liquor their hosts convinced her to try.

But once the festivities had finished and her master finally returned to his true work, he asked the lord as to the origin of the sickness. The man answered not but one phrase. _"Shīluò de Shěng."_ The Lost Province.

Intrigued, her master left immediately for the east to seek out an isolated region in the mountains, traveling an old, worn road tricky to follow. For much of the journey, Fou carried him on her back in the form of a Chinese Dragon. There were no villages, plenty of animals, and the forest lay undisturbed. The last thing Fou expected to find was the Chinese castle built into the mountain. The ancestral home of the Chan family.

Given its isolation and mystery, there was no wonder why the neighboring provinces fancied it cursed. But in reality, no plague had been sent by the Chans. They were merely a scapegoat for any disaster that happened nearby. She and Master Faustus were welcome within their walls for the master of the castle Xiang Hong had not entertained guests for many years and was quite fascinated by this so-called 'Life-Weaving Mage' and the shape-shifting girl who walked the road with him. He asked them to prove nothing, only how long they wished to stay.

It was his daughter, Feng Li Shu Chan, who was truly amazed by Fou. Naturally, the young princess' interest grew and asked Master Faustus himself to teach her his craft. At the consent of her father, she returned with him to Germany and worked under his tutelage for several years before becoming his assistant.

Leaving the front Gate, Fou tuned into the mausoleum deep within the Asian Branch where her master and his wife Feng had been buried, along with three of their four sons. Would her master approve of the way his granddaughter was using the life force, Fou wondered.

Would he understand?

-0-0-0-

Laboratory Six, the deepest, most disused lab in the Asian Branch was deemed unauthorized to all but the twenty-five researchers involved with the blasphemous project within the alabaster walls. The Second Apostles, now outfitted with semi-human bodies, were laid to rest undisturbed. A separate hospital and kitchen had been prepared, along with living quarters for the researchers and the apostles themselves, as well as a special room meant for synchronization trials.

Twi herself would not be directly involved with the project until the apostles awoke. Edgar, along with the other researchers, had agreed to act as a monitor for them and to stand guard should anything come to disturb or otherwise hinder their growth. Until their waking point however…

"I've stationed researchers in a monitor room separate from Lab Six." Twi said in an empty tone as she closed the heavy door to the lab. "They'll let me know as soon as one wakes, and then we can put the facilities down here to use."

"Do you really think you can create an exorcist this way?" Fou asked as she followed her out.

"We won't know until they awaken. Till then," She tore the Second Program out of her agenda. "Out of sight, out of mind."

-0-0-0-

As a nimble stag, she had better control of herself than she had as a lumbering dragon. Tossing her proud antlers, Fou bounded out of the ravine housing the Asian Branch's back door and trotted along the edge of the rocks. Nothing was to be seen in the darkness of the forest. She paused for a moment, one hoof gracefully raised above the rocks, then turned to look at the white pearl in the black ocean overhead, a cloud of breath snorting from her nostrils. Her left ear twitched, and she was off again, flitting into the undergrowth of the forest.

So far, she'd sensed no demons lurking in the dark, though there was a soul wandering about the woodland. It was too far away and too faint for her to identify precisely who, but she was certain it was a Chan. Ruling out Edgar and Twi, for she'd left them in the Asian director's office, Fou continued onward, antlers knocking against low-hanging branches and producing a hollow, clattering sound.

A wolf howled somewhere in the distance. Fou paused and craned her long, elegant neck, turning her nose in the direction of the song, then snorted, pawed a black hoof against the dirt, and progressed in her search. The night hunters were far off. They were safe, both she and the wandering man. Or woman. Fou concentrated on the entity again. It felt old. Old souls were imprinted with experience, with old hurts and pain carved into them, memories filling them, and wisdom lacing it all together in the same way a nest held itself together, sheltering its inhabitants with the greatest care.

Her long legs straining and her white tail waving at her rear, Fou journeyed further and further into the forest of her territory. Again the wolves howled at the moon. The soul ahead became stronger as she drew nearer to it, positive of its identity. She could tell it was a man now. An old man.

Bursting into the next clearing, she found him hunched over something at the roots of a great oak tree. "Evening, Old Man Zu." She greeted.

The elderly man whirled around, nearly dropping a handful of what looked like plants in fright. "Oh, it's you, Fou!" He cried, sighing in relief as he collected himself. "I feared you were a demon." Fou snorted again. "What's with that disguise, my dear? And may I ask what your business is way out here, so far from the base?"

"I was going to ask something similar." Fou stamped her hoof.

Zu Mei Chan tucked the herbs away in a small, beaded pouch hanging from his withered neck. "Just out collecting some medicinal plants. I discovered some of the more rare variety while out walking yesterday, so I marked the place and returned to collect some. Quite remarkable, these plants." Fou was silent, expressing her disinterest by turning her head away pointedly. "But I can see you think it's all quite dull, my dear."

"Monotonous."

The old man chuckled as he tucked the rest of the plants away. "Well, that's your own right to think so. But you have to admit it is quite fascinating how science has learned so much from these plants. How they can heal, or poison, or flavor food, or produce the air we breathe. Oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, all key ingredients in life, especially in the creation of…" Zu Mei trailed off and let the pouch fall from his hands to his chest. "…Ah, it's getting late. I think it's time we return home, dear."

Fou shifted back to her ordinary form and crossed her paws behind her head. "Homunculi." She finished for him. Zu Mei said nothing and turned to leave. As Fou followed him, she said in a soft voice laced with accusation. "Twi believes the Second Program is your idea."

Zu Mei said nothing, pretending not to hear her. He was even fiddling with his hearing aid, taking it out of his ear and frowning at it and such.

"Is that true?" Fou persisted, narrowing her eyes. She had her answer, from the way he was acting. She'd always been wary of Zu Mei, who was always concerned with the status of the Chan Clan within the Order and proposed monstrous methods to gain power and prestige, mostly at the expense of the exorcists. It was natural, she supposed, for a fourth son with no claim to the headship to have more underhanded notions. He was often in quarrels with his brothers because of it. Of course, Hei had been dead for years, but the twins had fiercely opposed their brother's scams for all it was worth. Right up till the very end.

"I've done a terrible thing, dearest Fou." Zu told her, eyes cloudy with shame. "I never, _ever_ expected Malcolm to go this far. I underestimated his desperation."

"But this _is_ your idea?" Fou pressed.

"All of it was!" He confessed suddenly. "All the experiments, the lies! Yu Min and Li and Hei, may they rest in peace, tried to warn me of all this, but at the time I couldn't care less." He produced a grey handkerchief from the folds of his clothing and bitterly wiped his eyes. "I used to think it was a nuisance whenever they raided the labs and set free the subjects I'd collected, but I realize they were trying to stop all this from happening. Those poor people…and the exorcists…how could I…I've done a terrible, terrible thing."

Having stopped walking, Fou sympathetically watched the sobbing man. "So this Program…?"

"Also mine." He blew his nose. "But this…this was meant as a last resort. If all else failed and the exorcists were driven to extinction…but Malcolm, that poor boy, he's never been the same since 1824 and Trishi's ill-fated death. Losing eight exorcists and the people you care about in one night…" A weary, despondent sigh escaped him. "It would drive a man mad."

"You pity him?" Fou asked.

"He was my student."

_Such a simple answer._ Fou pondered as she watched the old man fiddle with the beaded pouch again. It wasn't often she met a teacher who was fond of their student, or at least didn't openly say it. Well, she supposed pride in how their teachings had carried their students to success made up for that fondness.

"Tell me, Fou," Zu Mei whispered. "How goes the project?"

"It's complete. All that's left is for the apostles to wake up." She paused. "Will they?"

"Why ask me?"

"Because whether or not you're a lying sneak who should've listened to his big brothers, you're still the greatest sorcerer in the Clan right now." Fou added sharply. "Will they?"

"I know not." He answered jadedly. "But…if I were to guess, they are going to sleep for a very, _very_ long time. A dead brain might not even wake up at all, and if it does, will its new host retain his or her old personality, or will the genetic data from the researchers interfere? There are just so many questions, dear."

Fou blinked.

"Unfortunately, we must show our utmost patience for only time will tell." The old man smiled gently. "But be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still. And the longer the night lasts, the more our dreams will be."

They spent the rest of the walk back to Asia Branch in silence, leaves crunching beneath their feet, wolves howling in the distance. Fou closed her eyes as she walked, navigating by way of her sensitive ears and nose, and pondered what the elderly gentleman had told her. Patience? She could be patient. She'd lived for a very long time, and she had all the time in the world if she chose. What would happen if the apostles never woke up in Twi's lifetime, or even in little Bak's? What if the Branch sealed up the Sixth Lab and forgot all about those sleeping?

Maybe that was for the best.

Saying farewell to the elderly Chan, Fou melted into the matrix and resurfaced in the director's quarters to find her little master's door wide open and the boy screaming. Immediately on alert, Fou sprang toward the door, morphing one of her paws to a scythe…and relaxed instantly, realizing it was only laughter.

"I'm gonna get you!" Her mistress cried, trapping her son in one arm and lifting his night shirt with the other. Twi sucked in huge breath of air and curled over Bak. Fou smirked as she heard loud noise that sounded like a fart and the boy shrieked in laughter. Twi pulled back, running her fingers over him.

"Mutti, stop it!" He cried. "Fou, help me!"

Fou started to move forward, but her mistress laughed at her son's plea. "She won't help you. Fou only obeys me."

"Not fair!" He reached out to her. "Help me, Fou!" But she did no such thing, crossing her arms and pointedly sitting back to watch the boy kick and squirm in his mother's arms. "Mutti, no! No!"

"Hey, rascal." Fou greeted but the poor boy was too out of breath to respond.

Held captive by his mother, he squirmed terribly and squealed like a piglet, but Twi refused to release him and wriggled her fingers into the most sensitive parts of her son's little body. "No, no! Mutti, let me go!" And then he went limp, gasping for air and wheezing in his pleas for release. "Let…me…go…"

Finally, an unusually wide grin on her face, the woman relented and pulled the boy close in a crushing hug, planting a quick kiss in his blond hair. "All right, kiddo, time for bed. I promised I'd read you a story, and I have."

"Aww, one more?" Twi shook her head and stood up, pulling back a large multi-colored quilt. Fou backed out of the room as the boy flopped onto the sheet without protest, asking, "What about tomorrow night?"

"Can your eyes get _any_ wider?" His mother asked, flinging the quilt over him so it covered his head. "But yes, I'll read to you again tomorrow."

Bak fought his way out from under the blanket. "Promise?"

The woman brushed hand over his head. "Definitely. Who else is going to since I sent away Mrs. Blumstein?" She kissed his forehead and tapped his nose with her pointer finger, then stood and stepped carefully out of the room to join Fou in the hallway. "Good night, dear." Twi said, smiling as she was closing the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Night-night, Mommy."

Twi smiled warmly and waved to him as she flicked the light off and slid the door shut.

"It's nice to see you're trying to be more involved with him." Fou commented, crossing her arms behind her head. Before all this Second Program nonsense, Twi had had very little to do with Bak, always working and hell-bent on victory as any official worth their salt.

But when the Guardian Deity voiced these thoughts, Twi took on a considerate demeanor and answered solemnly, "Well…in light of recent events, Fou, with all these artificial programs and whatnot…" She smiled weakly and her dark eyes suddenly seemed so very tired, like the eyes of her dear grandmother in the days before she passed away.

"Perhaps setting our sights and focus so much on the Earl's defeat isn't such a healthy obsession." She said sadly. "I think it blinds us to other things just as important."


End file.
